Power and Surrender
by Skyeblux
Summary: Feeling brave, Rose pushes the Doctor too far and has to face the consequences! PWP M/F Het Swearing Non-Con


"But you said you've danced?"

She flicked her tongue out enticingly grazing her teeth. She knew she was flirting and she loved the stuttering puddle he would become as he'd wildly ruffle his hair and backtrack to logic and science - his safety blanket, his too much hugged bunny whose cotton wool was ripped at the seams of a sucked ear!

"Me, yes, 900 years old, of course!"

He shifted his gaze and popped on his specs while he fiddled with a few innocuous knobs on the console.

"And what you don't like it? You'd rather be partner less, sipping a beer at the edge of the room? Me and Shareen always pitied those guys - occasionally they'd get a sympathy fuck from someone who stooped to geeky and shy as irresistible."

She may as well just have described a young pin stripped male, calculating algorithms in his head, with half perched glasses licking the top of a bottle to try to estimate it's vintage!

"Do you feel sorry for me, Rose Tyler?"

He jerked his head up so fast as only a Time Lord with wounded pride could do, his hands now fondling a particular lever with gentle caresses, up and down occasionally with a violent squeeze as his knuckles whitened around the metal! _Did she just say fuck?_

She stilled in every way; even her heart, pounding so audibly, slowed its rhythm. Had she gone too far? His gaze was as transfixing as quicksilver, eroding and purifying but glimmering on dark and ancient. Shaking herself slightly so she could lighten the game they always played, "Wouldn't dare."

He curled his lips to a half smile and let go of the visible bristle.

"I mean, you feel the very turn of the universe, you walk in the dust..."

She began slowly walking towards his back as he concentrated with blankness in his eyes and his wayward hands seemingly tending to the TARDIS with mock exactitude – oh, he was a perfect facsimile of composure to the untrained eye!

"You hear the cries of stars long burned up and as voices pray in the depth of night for a savior you consider yourself worthy. You've had how many companions? How many impressionable young women swooning at the sight for their oncoming storm? You've mentioned Cleopatra, been to planets where you were worshipped as a god and women were offered to you as such."

She was close now, her brazenness coming out in noticeable nervous breathiness that pulled at her stomach and made her head spin.

"And it makes you feel so powerful, so important, to stamp on their pathetic little human needs, to deny them any more of yourself than you'd give a bus boy or London shop girl." Her words were becoming acidic and suddenly this was personal.

"Only you could fuck us without touching us, but oh no, don't dirty yourself in such apish desires."

She was right behind him now, her icy words forming in hot breathes at the nape of his neck. He had long since stilled, straightened, squaring his shoulders as he would when addressing some demon incarnate.

"Just look me in the eye and tell me I'm not good enough."

Rose's voice faltered and broke and all the defensive false flurries she'd thrown at him were revealed as nothing more than protection; protection against not having changed, having seen the universe and still seeing the reflection of a shop girl in the discerning eyes of the man who had at once become her mentor, her friend, her support, her lover, her life.

Without warning he spun around and forcibly pressed her against the console, her hands reaching for a safe hold that wouldn't blow the universe to smithereens if she slipped. He held her hands by the wrist and brought his face so close to hers she could hear his teeth grind and words slipped sinuously through them. "What would you have me do? Eh?"

With big shocked eyes she shook her head but never left his steely gaze as she bit back a whimper that was now piteous and sorrowful - she'd pushed too far, betrayed the understanding that he thought she held. Reduced a complex and wonderful relationship to physical depravity.

He continued, eyes ablaze and voice in that steady yet so unnerving calm. "Do you want me to fuck you? Want to feel needed?" he chorused this like a spoilt child.

"Need to feel _this_ to feel important?"

He pressed his crotch violently into her weakening body, his hardness biting into her like a brick. He lifted her a little, then thrust in again so their pelvic bones crashed in battle.

A tear ran down her face and he knew he'd succeeded and smirked at her fear. "Don't you know who I am, don't you know what I've done, what I could do to you!"

He'd gotten through and could be left to his misery and exclusion. Well, that was until she swallowed hard and ground her hips in a small circle, causing such immense friction with the already intense pressure that he had begun and maintained - their bodies painfully flush together. His eyes fluttered and hot air rushed from his lungs that he didn't even know he'd been holding. "Fuck."

In his eyes, she saw such darkness, such intensity, it was like some black light that was as bright as the sun was pouring directly into her, scrutinizing every flinch, but she knew her Doctor. He was great at talk, great at threats and power, but if you looked hard enough for that still small voice, suddenly she saw a lost and terrified boy, so lonely, so scared. Though he could bend the universe to his will, he couldn't shake his soul.

He tried again, that, _fuck IT_, _that was supposed to work,_ protect him, shield him and _oh, god,_ she'd gone too far now - he'd lose her, she couldn't stay, but gripping on to that last thread of hope, he had to end this now - STOP this, scare her, shake her, keep her with him out of fear if nothing else – please, he wasn't ready to lose her now.

He crossed her arms behind her back and pulled; she exhaled a shocked gasp. Bringing his face to her ear so he could almost taste her, but thank God, couldn't see her eyes, he prepared to break her. "When was the last time you were fucked so hard you screamed? That your cunt burnt for days, bruised and pained? That you screwed all night and forgot about the day? When was the last time you came so hard you thought you'd never breathe again? Is that what you want? What you want me to be to you - sex and sweat and blood?"

She was crying now; he could feel her heavy breathing rustling his hair. With any equal mix of anger and resentment she annunciated "NO!"

He laughed. She could feel the smirk on the hairs on her neck but wasn't deterred. "I want you - the real YOU - the YOU that I love."

"YOU don't know me!" he railed. "How could a pathetic little human even begin to touch ME?"

"You've touched me - you've burnt me and I'm still standing, waiting, loving...longing."

Her beautiful honesty and simplicity caused him to momentarily acquiesce. "I'm a Time Lord." There was sorrow now, regret. "I'd break you in two."

He pulled away, that should be the end of it, but she grabbed his shoulders and pulled him close and with wide and accepting eyes said, "Then break me!"

He threw his head back, growling in deep frustration, but pulled her zipper down roughly from her jeans.

Knowing this was up to her, she twined her knees around his waist and he took her. Violently thrusting in one sharp, practiced movement - she screamed, both their bodies arching away as they gasped in delirium. Stilled for a moment as time slowed down as if by his very will.

"Doctor!" she cried, and he came undone, thrusting into her again and again, so deep, so hard, as if he was punishing her for daring to love him. She ached, it had been so long but she took it and begged for more. Shook, caressing his brow, as she panted "Doctor...please...Oh God, don't stop!"

He didn't. He knew he should, he knew he was hurting her for his own sin of being with her, but he'd admit it now. He wanted her, this mere human life, trembling in his hands. He needed her and wanted to be so close that even a surgeon couldn't separate them and woe betide the wrath of the Oncoming Storm if any tried.

He thrust again and again, deep, so deep, filling her so completely in ways she never knew was possible, but though he cursed himself, any pain she felt was obliterated by pure ecstasy. Her Doctor - losing control - breaking down his own barriers, letting her in. She felt his sorrow, his loneliness, his regret, his need and his ultimate trust and love. She didn't know how much more her body could take but she never wanted this to end.

Eventually, he came, not in power and force, but something she'd never seen before, something she could only describe as sheer surrender.

She clung to him weakly, becoming almost a dead weight in his arms and he scooped her up, pressing her hair into his tear ridden face as he lovingly walked her to the bedroom with such ease and grace and reverence. She reached up and wiped a stray tear; a small smile of awe of someone who'd flown too close to the sun and survived. "Thank you," she bleated.

He bent his form to kiss the cradled head that swayed in his arms; a small smile creasing his face before he rolled his eyes to heaven, shielding her from the further intrusive tears.

'_What have I done? I love her. What have I done?'  
_


End file.
